


Big Six, Little Six

by mythomagicallydelicious



Series: Toe Bean Buds [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Post Episode: s02e12 A Tale of Two Stans, Post Portal Ford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 09:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: Little Bud meets the newest member of the Shack while on the prowl for some food and his owner.





	Big Six, Little Six

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be Part 4, and the story after is meant to be Part 3. I'll try and fix that sometime.

Little Bud had hidden away during the events of NWHS and ATOTS. He only re-emerged after everything had died down, and went in search of food or Stan. Usually those things went together, and even if he ended up eating hardtack on the kitchen floor, he’d have his human for company. He trotted down the stairs, stepping over random debris until reaching his destination. 

There was no food in his bowl, and no sign of his human. He padded over to the living room and caught a flash of gray hair. Yes! Little Bud ran forward, scrambling up onto a chair to be taller, meowing loudly. The man startled and turned, a gun in his hands and looking around wildly. Little Bud hissed and backed up. That was  _not_  his human but…it looked like him.

The man’s eyes found Little Bud’s and widened marginally. He slowly placed the gun back in its place at his hip and took a cautious step forward. Little Bud kept staring at the man. He seemed so familiar, so much like his human, but something was off. Now that he was thinking more, the smell from this human was different as well. Similar to some of his excursions in the forest, Little Bud thought the man smelled like the creatures did. The strange ones, from places no cat had ever experienced.

The man smelled like them but also like his human. It was confusing, but comforting. Little Bud took another step forward on the arm of the chair and meowed again. 

“How long have you been here?” the man asked. His tone was deeper pitched than his human’s, but not as rough. His question was pitched in such a way that made Little Bud’s ears twitch and flick. 

“No, no, of course, Felines cannot speak in this dimension. That was silly of me to ask you a question as if you could understand. As it is, greetings, cat. I am Stanford Pines. If you live here as well, I suppose we’ll be seeing more of each other this summer. Are you the children’s pet?” 

Some of what the man said was said quietly, but the rest felt directed at Little Bud. The name  _Stanford_  he’d said grabbed Little Bud’s attention. It was a name his human said often, and not as a name to him, either.  _Stanford_  felt like a name he could trust. Meowing once more, he jumped from the chair and walked up to the man, rubbing against his leg and turning to the kitchen.

The man stood stock still as he did so, but Little Bud could sense the tension from the man. His human had almost never had that tension when Little Bud came near. He walked a few steps to the kitchen, meowing again. The man seemed to hesitate still, glances jumping between the door to the People Place, the stairs, and back to Little Bud. But finally the man sighed and followed, muttering to himself behind him.

Once in the kitchen, Little Bud circled his food bowl a few times and looked up at the man, mewing again. His human and he had many conversations, with his human talking and pausing and Little Bud meowing back and purring and jumping up and moving at moments that felt right. This human didn’t seem to be as well versed in how to have conversations as his human, but hopefully he’d learn. The small humans had picked it up very well, so far. This man could too.

“Yes, well, it appears your bowl is empty. I take it you are asking me to provide sustenance?” The man asked, fidgeting with his hands and rocking on his heels a bit. 

Little Bud meowed and stretched, pulling his body back to weigh on his haunches with his front paws stretched before him. He held for a moment and stood straight again, staring at the man the whole time.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can find, cat. One moment.”

As the man rummaged through the cabinets, Little Bud jumped up onto the table. It was strange that his human didn’t come up tonight, but not unheard of. In the years past, his human would sometimes forget to take care of him, leaving his food bowl empty most of the day. But each time his human would hold him and take care of him even better, after. Little Bud didn’t hold it against him. But so far this season, especially with the small ones here, his human had been staying in the main part of the Shack more often. And with how crazy upside-down today has been, not seeing his human was stressing Little Bud out, if he dwelled on it.

Finally the man searched the fridge and procured half an empty can of cat food tuna. He opened it further and set it on the table , turning and filling a second bowl with water. Little Bud scarfed it up, chasing a few pieces stuck to the can with his tongue. He licked the can clean quickly, though, looking back up at the man with expectation.

“I’ve been there too, little guy. It looks like you haven’t gotten enough food today.” Little Bud made a small mew at the mention of his name, and came closer to the edge of the table. The man’s hand hovered uncertainly by his head. Little Bud sniffed at it, still getting those strange mixture of familiar and foreign scents, and bowed his head. The man gently ran two fingers down his head and scratched lightly at the back of his neck. Little Bud began purring, and the man smiled, pulling out a chair and using both hands to stroke his fur.

“You have such a unique pattern, little guy. I wonder what mixture of breeds you are? Oh, you like that spot?” The man spoke to him as gently as he petted him, and Little Bud leaned even further into it, purring growing stronger. The man found the spot he liked, stroking the fur on his forelegs to pat the tops of his paws. 

“Oh my, what is this?” Little Bud had closed his eyes in contentment, but opened them and looked down to where the man was carefully prodding his front left paw. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the man muttered, smoothing the fur down and tracing the outline of his claws. “Six toes, huh? I can relate.” And the man spread his hand on the table, six fingers matching six toes. Little bud bent down to inspect the hand closer, licking a couple of places on the hand, tasting a faint hint of the tuna he’d handled earlier. Little Bud meowed happily and head-butted the hand, hoping to be petted again.

The man didn’t move his arm. He just sat staring at the table. Little Bud bunched his body beneath him and leaped forward, landing in the man’s lap. The man was unprepared and scooted back violently, but he didn’t push Bud off. 

“A little warning next time would have been nice, cat.” Little Bud stared up innocently and meowed again, softly. The man sighed and began petting him again, from head to tail-tip, scritching his sides on every few strokes. “I suppose I will have to ask someone for your name tomorrow. You seem to respond well enough to my words as it is, though. I’ve always wondered just how much cats actually understand our language, or if it is more about tone and body language, as it was suggested by many scholars. In any case, it has been a pleasure to meet you tonight, little six. I was glad to assist you in finding food.”

The man made a motion as if he were about to stand, and alarmed, Little Bud stood again and jumped to the man’s shoulder. The man flung one arm up to brace the cat, but it was unnecessary. Little Bud had found his balance quickly after years of practice with his own human. 

“I suppose I can’t convince you to run along somewhere else, tonight?” The man sighed as Little Bud curled in closer to his head, fur bunching against the man’s fluffy hair. His tail flicked back and forth, hitting the man lightly on his back. “I thought not. Alright, you may accompany me to bed tonight, but tomorrow you return to the kids, okay?”

Little Bud clung tightly as the man briskly walked to the New Room, musty and stale-smelling air still prevalent, even though it had been opened many weeks ago, shortly after the small humans had arrived. The man grabbed a blanket and laid himself carefully down upon the couch, and Little Bud resettled so his head was lying near his heart, body slumped over his shoulder and arm. 

“Goodnight, Little Six.”

Little Bud meowed back and let the man softly pat him until he fell asleep. A few times in the night the man would start to struggle and fidget, and Little Bud would purr a rhythm until he returned to sleep. Sometimes the man started making his own purring sound back at Little Bud, surprising the cat and earning the man a few happy mews.

He hoped he would find his human again in the morning. He was worried about him. But for tonight, he curled up next to this other human and became comfort and protector over his sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> End goal: to get Ford to call the cat an adorable nickname besides "Little Six"
> 
> Also, I purposely tried to make Ford mirror some things Stan did/said when Stan first found the cat. At the point that both of these men met Little Bud, they'd come from pretty extreme circumstances. 
> 
> (Ford still thinks it’s the kids’ cat. It hasn’t crossed his mind that it’s Stanley’s cat, that maybe that is why it felt okay cozying up to a stranger. He doesn’t want to think about Stanley right now. He’s tired and he needs to save the world and there’s a cat meowing at him.)


End file.
